This is part two of my ridiculous story, just remember that both comic book logic and crazy sex fantasy rules are in effect! If you already knew that and you're back for more, thank you so much for your encouragement!
*****
Clark Kent had never liked Arkham Asylum. He believed that anyone could change and redeem themselves, or at least he wanted to believe it, but the grim castle had nothing to do with redemption. A long time ago he'd argued with Bruce about whether or not it did any good. In the end he'd let it go, since Gotham was Bruce's turf.
But now Arkham was Clark's problem. After fucking Poison Ivy into submission, he'd dropped her off at the asylum because he wasn't sure what else to do. She hadn't resisted anything he did until she realized that he was going to leave her, but instead of fighting she'd only looked at him desperately.
That was the reason he went back to visit her. Clark stepped inside the room that contained her cell, a specially prepared cube of glass that would theoretically keep her from using her plants to escape. It would probably last a month or two before she got free. At least, that was how it used to work. Once the guards closed the door behind him, Clark cleared his throat.
"Superman!" Ivy leapt from her bunk and rushed to the side nearest him. The Arkham uniform wasn't exactly flattering, but it wasn't shapeless enough to hide the curve of her hips. "Did you change your mind? You still own me... say the word, and I'm yours..."
As she spoke she pressed herself up against the glass, the pressure revealing the shape and size of her breasts. Clark's lips were suddenly very dry, but he forced himself to focus. "Are you going to break out of Arkham as soon as I leave?"
"You're really leaving me here? Please, Superman, fuck me! Just once more!"
"If... if you cause any more trouble, I
won't
fuck you. How does that sound?"
She drew back from the window in horror. "No! I'll... I'll be good, I promise!"
"Good. Stay here."
"Until when?" Ivy slid her tongue over her lips slowly. "Your threat doesn't work unless you come back to fuck me... you're not just leaving me in here, are you? You have some kind of plan?"
"I..." Clark shook his head. "I don't know yet. Goodbye, Ivy."
He turned away from her cell and marched out before he could second-guess himself. The slightest thought brought back his memories of how tight she'd felt wrapped around his cock, and he didn't need that right now. It brought to mind ideas of control he thought he'd abandoned a long time ago. Clark determinedly set his mind to more important things.
On his way out he glanced at the guard, wondering if he'd heard anything. But the middle-aged man simply sat at his desk, fiddling with his phone. Clark frowned, but decided it wasn't his place to object.
"Excuse me, can you tell me what happened to the security booth that used to be here?"
"Eh?" The man scratched his head and then shrugged. "Was there a booth here?"
"I distinctly remember security being better last time I visited."
"Yeah, well, the people higher up the chain keep changing everything every few months. You get used to it. Right now security is pretty light, but it has its upsides. Especially when we get chicks like that." The guard jabbed his thumb toward Ivy's cell. "While escorting her around, maybe I'll get to cop a feel, you know?"
Superman felt his eyes begin to heat up and controlled himself. He told himself what bothered him was the guard's corruption and apathy, but part of him was angry that the guard would touch Ivy. She was
his
.
Realizing what he was thinking, Clark brought himself under control. "Isn't seducing guards exactly the way she usually escapes?"
The guard shrugged. "Worth it."
"Worth it? Doesn't she usually kill the people she seduces?"
"Sure, but they die happy. Even if she doesn't fuck you, hell of a way to go." The guard saw his expression and rolled his eyes. "Pardon my French, Superman. This ain't Metropolis."
"I see that." Clark gave him a cold stare and sped the rest of the way out of Arkham Asylum in an instant.
Once he was high overhead, wrapped in the brooding clouds that always seemed over hover above Gotham, Clark managed to cool down. He wasn't himself, but thinking about that never helped. Instead he focused on what he needed to do.
The Bat-Signal had been Gordon, one last desperate attempt before the police department shut the signal down. Based on their conversation, it sounded like the corruption in Gotham City had gotten a lot worse and the few honest cops had their hands tied. Gordon had evidence that criminal were massing for some kind of massive assault, but he couldn't do anything to stop it.
An assault actually sounded like a relief to Clark. That was a problem he could solve with a few punches. Instead he faced a city positively riddled with crimes. From where he hovered, he could hear and see a thousand separate incidents. And there was so little he could do.
Even at top speed, he couldn't stop all of them. Not without risking killing the criminals, and certainly not while contacting the police or helping the victims. Bruce had been right: the only way to control Gotham was through fear. That wasn't something Clark was good at - even random security guards didn't respect him here.
Though he didn't have any solutions, Clark had to keep moving. He flew down to Wayne Manor and scanned it carefully, but it remained abandoned. Alfred had been at the funeral, but Clark wasn't sure what had happened to him after that. Few rooms had been used recently and didn't seem to contain any useful information, so Clark headed down to the Batcave.
Everything there was in disarray, but contained no clues that would help interpret Bruce's last words. Even the computer gave little hint what he had been doing, at least not the parts that weren't security locked. Eventually Clark managed to pull up all of Bruce's recent searches. That finally got him somewhere.
It seemed that Bruce had been obsessed with finding some sort of artifact - he hadn't known exactly what it was, but he had a shipping manifest that suggested it was being stored somewhere in the city. Not only that, there was a massive bounty from Gotham's underworld to anyone who could steal it.
None of the information told him exactly what the object was, but some of the searches suggested that it might put off unnatural levels of thermal energy. Strange... but something he could work with. Clark flew out of the Batcave and circled around the city once before settling on the docks. The warehouses there were the most likely holding place for a mysterious artifact.
Superman could focus his eyes to see the thermal spectrum, but the skill wasn't nearly as precise as his x-ray vision. The city was filled with sources of heat, but he gradually filtered out the bodies and motors and scanned what remained. One warehouse in particular leapt out at him, so he flew down toward it. Strangely, the door was already unlocked, so he floated inside and began searching.
There was definitely an unnatural source of heat in the building, but he couldn't pinpoint its exact location. It didn't help that he had no idea what he was looking for, either. Clark hovered in the center of the warehouse, considering the problem. Given enough time, he might be able to pinpoint the artifact with reasonable certainty, but...
Someone else was already in the warehouse.
She crouched on the other side of a row of boxes, but Clark effortlessly looked straight through them. Selina Kyle, better known as Catwoman. Her skintight black outfit covered all of her body except her face and part of her neck, yet left almost nothing to the imagination. As she rose to her feet, the muscles of her legs shifted in a way that made Clark finally understand what "fuck me heels" meant.
That led his eyes to her fantastically tight ass and soon to the rest of her. Though she had a gymnast's muscles, she also had some impressive curves. Dark hair was tucked into a cat-eared hat, and as Clark watched Selina lowered a pair of goggles to her eyes.
Night vision goggles, judging from the way she looked at him and began moving toward the entrance. Clark let her move out from behind the boxes before speaking.
"Are they storing some kind of cat-related jewelry here?"
Her body froze in place in mid-step, deliciously taut. Clark started to reprimand himself for looking at her that way, but realized that it hardly mattered after what he'd already done. After a still moment, Selina slid to her feet and put a hand on her hip. "How'd you catch me?"
"X-ray vision, remember?" Clark folded his arms and floated between her and the door.
"Aww, that's not fair," Selina pouted at him. "But I haven't stolen anything, honest."
